


You're on

by OrphanText



Category: Magic Kaito, 名探偵コナン | Detective Conan | Case Closed
Genre: M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-02
Updated: 2016-11-02
Packaged: 2018-08-28 14:46:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8450461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OrphanText/pseuds/OrphanText
Summary: Kaito is terrible with dares and bets, which is how everyone wins. PWP.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Author climbs out through the window laughing.
> 
> This fic is like super old. It got started because of one particular line which I think you can guess. Started out as writing practice but this is just ridiculous I can't believe myself. 
> 
> I know nothing about the mechanics and physics involved in this, but I do know how to stick a pin into a lock and then get it stuck in there.
> 
> Unbetaed.

The scuffling was what drew his attention, although nothing could have prepared him for the scene that he has just walked in on, a book on the history of aviation in hand. Clearing his throat, Shinichi stares at the painting on the wall, and there’s a loud thump as someone hits their head against the door.

“Excuse me, but you seem to have a cock in your ass while picking that lock,” he says politely.

Kaito, in spite of his situation, manages to give him an entirely baleful stare over his shoulder, before Hakuba shunts his hips just _so_ behind him, and the lock pick Kaito was holding carefully between his teeth drops to the ground with a loud clatter, the thief clearly biting back a moan, head thudding against the door again. Shinichi raises an eyebrow at Hakuba, wrestling the urge to simply collapse against the wall and laugh uncontrollably.

“Kuroba’s been bragging about his skills, and so we’ve decided to put it to the test,” Hakuba says, voice entirely too even for someone who is currently balls deep in someone else’s arse. “Kuroba isn’t one to go back on his word. Are you, Kuroba?”

“We were - “ Kaito swallows, voice oddly liquid and panting very quietly. He squints up at the lock, brow furrowed in concentration. “Drinking. He coerced me into this.”

“I see,” Shinichi says, very glad that he cleans the carpet on a regular basis. “Can I watch?”

Hakuba runs a hand fondly through Kaito’s dark hair, prompting the thief to turn his head, Hakuba humouring him with a kiss. Shinichi watches as Kaito’s eyes flutter close, the thief trying to press closer to the detective behind him with a quiet sort of need, trying to chase Hakuba’s lips when the detective pulls away with a quiet chuckle. “I have no objections,” Hakuba says, Kaito’s eyes lingering on the other’s lips, before dipping down to the ground, tongue darting out to lick at his own. “Kuroba?”

“None.”

Shinichi hesitates, before taking a step forward, bending down to pick up the lock pick that Kaito has dropped, the pick wet with his saliva, and allows Kaito to carefully take it from his palm with his teeth, hot tongue swiping ticklishly over the palm of his hand before pulling away with a fierce determination in his eyes.

There’s something like pride in Hakuba’s eyes, the faint glimmer of competition, and above all, a gentle, encompassing sort of adoration and love, standing out starkly against the possessive hand that the detective has on Kaito’s hip and the red marks he’s left on the thief’s neck and shoulders. Shinichi stands there for a second more, before thinking better of touching either of them, and takes up an unobtrusive spot by the wall.

Hakuba is petting over Kaito’s flank, the thief steadying himself by drawing in slow, deep breaths through his nose, then angling his head to insert the pick into the lock. It doesn’t look exactly comfortable, neither for his neck or his knees, but one of them has come up with the idea of cuffing the thief’s hands behind his back (Shinichi is betting on Hakuba), and Kaito can only work with his lips and teeth, choking when Hakuba rocks into him again, Kaito’s nose nearly pressed flat against the wood of the door as the thief lets out an irritated huff.

Vaguely, Shinichi wonders if they have considered the mechanics of having sex and lock picking with one’s lips, but decides that he shouldn’t ask.

It is clear that Hakuba is allowing Kaito a bit of a head start, applying open mouthed kisses to the thief’s bare shoulders and back, leaving red marks on his unblemished skin as the thief works on the lock with a fierce sort of concentration. It’s funny, the sort of things that his lovers get up to in his house without his permission. Kaito’s blue shirt is still rucked up around his waist, although he is bare from the hip down, toes digging into the carpet for traction when Hakuba gives a particularly hard thrust.

Hakuba is smiling, hands wandering over Kaito’s body, one of them slyly sneaking in between his legs to palm at his cock, Shinichi guesses, from the way Kaito makes an irritated sound in his throat, brow furrowing again. Hakuba leans forward to murmur something in his ear, then Kaito lets go of the lock pick for long enough to shift his weight so he can kneel with his legs further apart.

The position has to be awkward, but neither of them seem to mind. The moment Kaito settles, Hakuba begins moving, picking up a deep, slow rhythm while Kaito leans his forehead against the door, fringe damp with sweat. Kaito’s breath shudders out of him when Hakuba palms the tip of his cock roughly, and then he chokes, hips jolting backwards into Hakuba, gasping when the movement drives Hakuba’s cock deeper into him.

“God _fucking_ damnit, Saguru,” Kaito hisses, then arches his back as Hakuba drags a low, thready moan out of him, shuddering bodily. Shinichi cannot see what Hakuba is doing, Kaito’s shirt obscuring his hands from view, but he can very well guess what, from what he knows of Hakuba’s proclivity to activities in bed. 

“Do not take the Lord’s name in vain,” Hakuba advises him, twisting his wrist as Kaito squeezes his eyes close. “You still have a lock to pick.”

“Fuck,” Kaito cursed under his breath, voice thick and a little hoarse. He licks his lips, eyeing the lock pick that he’s jammed into the lock speculatively, and takes a hold of it again with his teeth, leaning forwards as Hakuba wraps his arms around his waist, burying his nose into the crook of the other’s neck.

The air is heavy with the smell of sweat and sex, bitter musk filling the corridor, and Shinichi tugs at the collar of his shirt as it sticks uncomfortably to his skin. It is getting a little warm, but he doesn’t want to step away, not if it would break both of their concentrations and remind them of his presence. 

Kaito is tilting his head this way and that, the sound of clicking metal from the door muted as he manipulates the pick. His concentration is impressive, unshaken even when Hakuba rakes blunt fingernails along his inner thighs, only snarling when the detective nearly smushes his face into the door with a couple of particularly enthusiastic thrusting.

“Back off a bit,” Kaito grunts, fingers curling and uncurling behind his back. “Cramp. Fuck.”

“Where?” Hakuba immediately takes his weight off of Kaito, pulling out of him with a quiet sucking sound, hands taking him by the shoulders.

“Calf. Right.” Kaito whimpers when Hakuba massages his calf, digging his thumb into where the muscle was tensing up, the other hand supporting him from the front. “Told you this was a bad idea.”

“I like it,” Hakuba says, a little petulantly, still massaging firm circles into the muscle. “Do you want to stretch out your leg?”

He helps Kaito shift his weight to the other leg and straightening out his right leg as the other hisses quietly in pain, sitting down heavily on his rump and then hissing again for entirely different reasons. 

“Does any of you want water?” Shinichi offers, having to clear his throat a few times from how dry it’s become.

Kaito nods, the forehead and the tip of his nose red from having pressed against the door for too long, as are his knees. Hakuba answers a quiet affirmative, and so Shinichi reluctantly leaves the both of them to fetch them water from the kitchen, pouring into two tall glasses and then gripping onto the edge of the sink, taking a moment for himself. The cold sink is purely non-judgemental, tap dripping quietly against the metal as Shinichi tries to gather his scattered thoughts, grounding himself by dragging in lungfuls of cold, clean air, and letting it out slowly again.

They are still on the floor when he returns, quietly bickering, high spots of colour on Kaito’s cheeks. He offers him the glass of water silently, and Kaito immediately gulps down half of the liquid before passing it over to Hakuba.

“I’m not having sex with him anymore,” Kaito jabs a finger into Hakuba’s chest. “Help me up, my knees are killing me.”

“Because of the bet?” Shinichi helps him up to his feet, Kaito tugging on his shirt so that he is wearing it properly, doing up a few buttons so it wouldn’t hang open. “Who won?”

“Me, of course.” Kaito takes hold of the door knob and turns it easily, the door swinging open. “And there’s the bet, too. This bastard made sure that I was drunk before proposing it, knowing I wouldn’t back down from a challenge. You know I cannot hold my alcohol.”

“I simply have a good understanding of where your weaknesses lie,” Hakuba says, returning the empty glass to Shinichi. 

“This ass told me my ass was a little too flat.”

“I didn’t say that I didn’t like it.”

“Uhm,” says Shinichi, a little helplessly, looking between the both of them. “Well, since the bet is settled, why don’t the both of you relocate?”

A hand grabs hold of his wrist, and he blinks when the both of them turn to look at him, pinning him with the same intensity that he’s just seen them share with each other.

“Only if you come with us,” Hakuba says, kissing the knuckles of his other hand - a little awkward, since he is still holding onto the glass, but Hakuba doesn’t let it faze him. “Even if you don’t want to, you can watch.”

It’s hard to back down from them when they are looking at him like that, and Shinichi finds himself swallowing hard, nodding slightly before they drag him into his own bedroom, Kaito whooping happily.

He is still a little out of it on Monday, Takagi pointing it out when he drops by his desk with a cold case. 

“Something interesting over the weekend?” The police detective asks, puzzled when Shinichi turns pink.

“I guess you could say that,” Shinichi says, and grabs for a file to hide his face with. That particular memory was going to stay with him for quite a while - Kaito and Hakuba had made sure of that before they had let him go.


End file.
